Once in a Lifetime
by Thegoh
Summary: The adventures of Class 3-E has left a deep impression on them all. It was truly a once in a lifetime experience. So how will these 2 cope with the aftermath? Nagisa and Kayano reflect on their experiences. Will be romance centred.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey everyone! Here's a fic on Assassination Classroom! Enjoy.**

* * *

It was against a sea of crimson, when it happened.

I had just recovered from having the wind knocked out of me in the shed the previous day, and the rising smoke from the battlefield made it hard to breathe. Amidst the raging shrieks, struggling cries and whipping of tentacles, I remembered my mind racing as we collectively struggled to find a solution. A solution that would save his life, and hers.

"Play your air guitar!"

"Are you nuts?! She'd focus her killing intent on me!"

"There must be something!"

 _There had to be… but what could?_

The clock was ticking fast, and a sense of dread steadily crawled up my back as I found each and every technique available to me coming to a dead end. Nothing I knew would be able to draw her attention away, not while the object of her hatred stood before her at her mercy. Bile rose to my throat and hopelessness began to sink in, with the realisation that the skills I had would only fuel her bloodlust. That I couldn't do anything about it.

I felt like I had been thrown back to the day when I was told I was to become a member of class 3-E. From an assassin, I had returned to a failed student because I just wasn't good enough to solve the situation before me.

 _Is this the extent of what I've learned?_

The roar of battle swelled, and the flames rose as Kayano's rage reached its peak, her attempts at Koro-sensei's heart growing ever more frantic. Her eyes, nearly bulging out of her head, had gone totally dark while her jaws opened even further to release a deafening screech of fury. She picked up her impossible pace even further, with every attempted strike of her tentacles causing a thunderous crack that left our ears ringing; it was loud enough to rival the sound of a heavy sniper rifle firing next to one's head. Even the flames seemed to respond to her bloodlust, rising and roiling even higher than before as she continued her onslaught, with each missed blow seemingly inching closer to its mark than before. Not even Koro-sensei, the superhuman being who could move at Mach 20, could take his eyes off her now if he wanted to live.

She looked like a rage demon straight out of the ninth level of hell, a hidden final boss that rose after you thought you were safe. And we needed to stop her without harming her. But what could we do? We were assassins, trained to kill, not stop someone from killing. Furthermore, what I knew could only redirect someone's bloodlust, but now I was faced with the impossible task to disengage it. With such an intense hatred and lust for vengeance, what tactic could possibly make her forget her emotions for a moment?

And that was when it hit me.

To forget an emotion, one simply has to replace it with something of equal or greater intensity.

Just like how Bitch-sensei could forget her ire with just a choice word from Karasuma-sensei. Like how Koro-sensei could be made to leave his depressed state by hurling a few petty insults to get under his skin. It was almost similar to the clap-stunner in that respect.

I simply had to overrun her by doing something completely different. Then, we would have our chance to strike.

And just as I had finished my moment of realisation, Kayano's blades found her mark and Koro-sensei sprung his trap.

"If any of you has an idea, do it now!" he ordered.

It was unnerving, leaving the safety of my classmates to stare her down. For the first time since the insanity of the battle began, her crazed eyes were focused on something else as she struggled to break free – the something else being me. Her intense bloodlust hit me like a bullet, and I sensed the true scale of her messed up wavelength as she glared at me in full psycho-predator mode. I fought the urge to collapse. Then, I took a step forward with my fists clenched.

This was an assassination. If I was to be able to kill her, I had to match her bloodlust with mine. However, restrained and with a countdown to her own life, she would be on guard against me in a matter of moments. I had only a small window to actually distract her. And so, I poured my bloodlust into them, and raised my empty palms to my sides.

Her side-wards glance to scan my hands for weapons was all I needed.

With one swift motion, I planted my lips firmly on hers and began replicating the motions of our Bitch-sensei that left me stunned all those months ago.

Bitch-sensei was a walking honey trap, and her being a pro-assassin meant her actions – no matter how sultry and provocative – had no real emotions attached to them. In fact, what made her a true pro was that her actions were so convincing, that her targets believed those emotions existed while she remained solidly unattached even after all was said and done. In all her lessons to us, this was the one thing she embodied. But all pros would meet their end, it was only a matter of when. Bitch-sensei met hers when she came to our class, when she met us and Karasuma-sensei. She fell into the trap of emotional attachment long after she started the game. In that sense, she was still a pro.

I however, was no such pro.

In the boiling heat of the fires and with the threat of death – his, hers and mine – looming over me, there was no time to attach emotions to my actions. In that instance, my lips and tongue were my weapons, their motions my strategy, and her sensual overload my goal. I would go further and say that there was nothing even remotely romantic or even sexual about it; not when our lives were at stake and the heat of battle tingled on the surface of my skin.

It was a move full of bloodlust, channelled via an unorthodox means for a wholesome goal. It had no other intentions.

So why is it now, that when I lay on my bed at the end of the day I could never forget, the day where my life at 3-E officially ended, that I grew attached to the one action I had believed had no further meaning?

* * *

They say that girls will never forget their first kiss. For girls, a first kiss was a sacred experience. It was a gift, a moment meant only to be shared with a special person as an expression of true affection. It was a milestone, something that symbolised and crystallised the transitional point of a relationship between two people, from friends to lovers. In every romantic tale I've been a part of, such were the tropes surrounding the act. Two characters, two strangers would grow closer over time. But before they ever kissed, one could still loosely define them as friends. In the eyes of many an audience, the only way to truly define a romantic relationship, was a kiss. Of course, I never truly kissed anyone on screen; I was still underage and my employers were respectful of that.

Nonetheless, I had looked forward to having my own experience. Regardless of how the acting industry may dull one to gestures, it was still something I held onto as something I needed to treasure.

I would eventually receive my wish in my final year of middle school. There were even pictures taken of it, which wormed their way into my personal graduation album courtesy of a red-headed devil, a blonde prankster and one highly infuriating yellow octopus.

But the greatest shame of all, is that I can barely remember it now. I knew it happened, but I can only vaguely recall how it felt. I remembered being overwhelmed by my surprise and actually enjoying it, but after I woke from my coma, all that remained was a faint ghost of the sensations that I experienced. The fact that I found out in full clarity how I was stopped from my rampage only after everyone else knew made it worse.

But the worst part of it all, was having live with that knowledge. After that, I could never look him in the eye properly. Knowing how he risked his life, how devoted he was to the wishes of the class, how much he loved our teacher; I found myself coming to truly respecting and liking him as a person. His gentle nature and calm determination against the odds merely made my infatuation grow.

It was strange. In the early months, he was merely a tool, a convenient mask for me to use. After all, Kayano Kaede was a kind, behind-the-scenes girl drawn to kind, behind-the-scenes boys. She was to be a supporting character of their story: seen, but not well remembered. Known, but not well-defined. Good, but not talented. And just to perfect the lie, throw in some flaws that were grounded in truth: her insecurity about her chest, and weakness for pudding. And thus, Kayano Kaede was born and became one of Shiota Nagisa's closer friends.

Then, as time progressed and he made himself increasingly prominent among Class 3-E, I became increasingly intrigued. Here he was, honing his bloodlust and killing intent in broad daylight, while I nursed mine in the shadows. While I certainly didn't mind him becoming an even better mask – who would pay attention to the supportive girl who didn't seem to shine in assassination? – I couldn't help but wonder. A regular boy wasn't simply born with a talent to kill just like how Yukimura Akari wasn't born with a thirst for calculated vengeance. Something had happened to this boy that would let him possess such potential.

And so, I observed. To not only perfect my character, but to sate my curiosity. After all, having something else to focus my attention on made it easier to cope with the searing pain in my neck. I stayed near him, studied with him, practiced with him. I participated in one event after another, immersing myself as how Kayano Kaede would next to him. I even let her take a day in the limelight just so she would uphold the support part of her character. Yukimura Akari took a backseat, watching and studying the events as they went by, nursing her rage to a razor edge as she waited for the perfect time to strike.

Time passed, and the deadline grew steadily closer. As I expected, each assassination attempt failed one after another. The class had good means to put Koro-sensei on the spot, and even accessed several weaknesses. However, they lacked something crucial, a weapon with enough of an edge against him. Try as they might, they simply just weren't fast enough to fight evenly with him. Assassins may be able to win against more powerful opponents, but there was a limit to how large the power gap could be allowed; something that truly hit home when we faced the "God of Death". With that in mind, it seemed that Yukimura Akari's biding time was near an end.

But there was something else that spurred my actions. Kayano Kaede may have been a character, but there was a shred of truth to her. Her fears and insecurities, her quirks and preferences were all derived from myself, Yukimura Akari. Thus in every event in Class 3-E, a part of myself, my real self, was also involved. I marvelled at the prowess of Karasuma-sensei and Bitch-sensei, I resented the emotional abuse from the main-campus goons, I revelled in the thrill of free-running and survival games, I rejoiced in achieving good grades and I relaxed with the idle chit-chat with him and the others. I was a killer, I was sharpening my blades and biding my time, but I also got to be a teenager.

As the experiences poured in, as Kayano Kaede found herself enjoying her life in Class 3-E, I, Yukimura Akari got sucked in too. The worst part was, my target showed increasing signs of being a genuinely good being. And it terrified me. Which was why I needed to spring into action. I couldn't let myself forget the treachery committed by that slimy octopus. He had to pay, and he would taste the full extent of my fury. Yukimura Akari's diffused bloodlust was nursed back in full force, and I unleashed myself against my target.

But even at my best, I was trounced by the shy boy that I used as a mask. The one whom I deemed to be just like the others, unable to kill Koro-sensei. With one innocuous move, he bested me completely and left me stripped of my trump cards and my reason for vengeance.

With the knowledge of what truly happened that day, Yukimura Akari's focus was gone. Whatever I had built up in that timespan, was now without meaning and trajectory. My body would recover, but now I was faced with a problem. Who was I, now that my resolve was gone? Yukimura Akari had spent a better portion of a year being nothing but a ball of concentrated hatred in the shadows, while Kayano Kaede was merely a composite cover for daytime activity. Neither existed in full during all the time spent in Class 3-E.

And without even meaning to, Shiota Nagisa helped me answer that question. His constant visits and care while I was recovering, his wish for the time we spent together to not be a lie, made me decide that perhaps embracing my composite nature wasn't a bad idea. I couldn't deny that I wanted what he wanted too; for everything to be real. And without the pain of the tentacles to cloud my senses, it seemed almost peaceful to simply become the mask. I would be crazy to let go of a place which honestly made me enjoy life once again.

Plus, I really, really couldn't get over the fact that I shared my first kiss with him and liked it. Even if I cannot remember what it really felt like, I couldn't ignore the want to feel it again.

Was this what they meant by not being able to forget? If so, then I'm still a normal girl then.

 _Geh, like I can truly say that. Nothing in my life experience can be even remotely normal._

But I couldn't let my affections rob him of his goals. My vengeance had already eaten up so much of my life, I couldn't let my emotions rob the goals of another. Which was why I backed down that Valentine's Day. He already had a target in mind, and it wasn't going to be me.

But, on the day when my life-changing year in 3-E ended, his target disappeared forever.

While my sister was alive, my target was her. She was kind, beautiful, and talented. She pursued her target with passion, which led her to become a teacher. Even her bastard of a husband didn't stop her from giving her all to what she did, from loving the life she led.

Then one day, she disappeared.

It was as if my world had shifted off-centre. For me, I had no one to reach out to, and it led me to bearing the pain of the tentacles for over a year. To drowning in my hatred and misguided fury. I had to consider myself fortunate, because I still had the construct of Class 3-E to save me from falling off the deep end. But now, with everyone officially graduated and heading home to face a new future, he had no such luxury.

Which was why, even if I wasn't his target, I couldn't leave him behind. Time would march on, and he needed people beside him to that his grief didn't overtake him.

Thus, as I began to wind down for the night, I made a note to see him as soon as I could, infatuation or not. After all, Kayano Kaede was a kind, behind-the-scenes girl, who supported her friends when they needed it.

* * *

 **And there we go. A quick flash of inspiration as I finished Season 2 of Assassination Classroom. A little rushed, but I hope you enjoy it. Do leave a review and let me know what you think!**

 **Thegoh**


	2. Chapter 2

**And here is chapter 2!**

* * *

The days passed by like any other. People rose from sleep, made their way to school and work. Traffic flowed like it always would. The world marched on, blissfully unaware and unconcerned with the immense change that 28 souls (well, 27 if I didn't get too philosophical) had undergone. I lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling as the moonlight filtered through my curtains. I had made it a point to keep every window shut and curtain drawn ever since that night, lest anyone spot my prominent blue hair and begin banging on my front door. Apart from answering the occasional message from my classmates, I made no contact with the outside world, leaving my room only for meals and to shower. Mom had been surprisingly calm about it all; I guess leaving those acceptance letters for my high schools on the dinner table helped draw some of her attention away.

It had been nearly a week since we graduated. A week since it was revealed to the world what had happened in the mountain classroom of Kunugigaoka Junior High. The media still buzzed with activity, with daily reports and discussion pouring through every outlet and medium available. Talk-shows, news updates, blog posts and radio interviews; pretty much anyone with a remote amount of influence was talking about it. And the people were out for blood: demanding answers and details on just what had transpired that allowed a class of middle school students to share a classroom with a monster for nearly a year.

It was sickening to watch. To hear and see a bunch of complete strangers pass around their opinions of what happened as truth. To have our entire class labelled as victims and potentially unstable thanks to our outburst that night. But worst of all, was having them dismiss our entire experience with our beloved teacher as a non-existent nightmare, and us being powerless to stop them.

 _So much for being assassins. Couldn't even kill a target sluggishly taunting us in broad daylight._

Karasuma-sensei did his best to protect us all. With a fair amount persuasion, he had motioned for a protection order to be granted to us. Any journalists caught to be harassing us would be liable for arrest. He even sent a voice message to each and every one of us, warning us to stay low and remain quiet for a few weeks, alongside other information.

"As for your classroom, it is off limits for now. A police blockade will be set-up around the perimeter to secure the place, mainly to ensure no reporters get through. Teams will be sent in to sweep the place of any remaining dangers. While no official statement has been publicly issued, they have been ordered to wrap up their search in a week. They are unfamiliar with the place, so they'll likely only conduct detailed sweeps in the daytime…"

He paused.

"I understand that amidst all this chaos with the public, the classroom would feel like the safest place to be. But please, just stay low for a while." The rustling of papers could be heard, and Karasuma-sensei cleared his throat.

"In any case, as I've said, the classroom is off limits. Security will likely loosen as their deadline closes, but don't try anything." Stern as ever. However, we all swore we could feel his smirk as he gave his final instruction.

"Don't give me trouble again."

I chuckled. Ever reliable Karasuma-sensei.

Of course, with the whole world now knowing the truth behind Koro-sensei, our parents were beyond shocked. Hearing it had sent Mom into a fit the night after the graduation ceremony. But for once her ire wasn't directed at me, for even she knew that there was no way I could have influenced a decision like that. Nonetheless, I reached out to her as her wavelength peaked, and calmly recounted my entire school year to her.

I told her of the day when we all placed within the top 50, of how Koro-sensei had worked us all to the bone to get there. I told her of the excitement we had when we discovered we had our very own pool made just for us in the mountains. I told her of how we won a total victory in pole-toppling, in order to protect a friend. I told her of how, in an effort to teach us responsibility, we helped rebuild a home for kids. Without thinking, I took out my album, supplying every memory I spoke of with photos. Page after page, I relayed my times in 3-E to my mother. Somewhere in between, I even pulled out my acceptance letters as proof of my growth under Koro-sensei. My growth, my achievements, my emotions; I laid them bare before her. My heart began to clench, and I tasted bitterness on my tongue as I rambled on. It was only when I noted my mother's prolonged silence, did I realise that hot tears were pouring down my cheeks.

It didn't take long for my mother to march me to my room with a bowl of soup in hand.

And thus, I spent the following days within the comfort of my room. With every report I heard on my radio, with every article I read on my phone, I felt the bile rising in my throat. Not a single thing being said about us was even remotely close to the truth; instead, the air was filled with speculative lies and backhanded pity. Sympathy from a bunch of strangers for a group of what they deemed to be helpless children.

"An outrageous plan to use children as bait. This will scar them for life!"

I grit my teeth. _It didn't._

"… what could a thing like that possibly do in a school?"

 _He was a teacher._

"Reports stated that the unidentified being was acting as an educator…"

 _It wasn't an act!_

"Wonder if these poor children will ever be able to re-adjust and forget such a horrid experience…"

 _WE'RE FINE._

"Stockholm syndrome, making these kids grow a sense of attachment to cope…"

 _WE LOVED HIM!_

I flung the radio against the wall, shattering the wretched thing. In the resounding silence of my room, I felt my fists shake as breathed heavily.

 _It's not right, it's not fair, it's NOT RIGHT._

How could they even think that this was the truth? How could they twist what any of us said and felt that night? Not a single one of us got scarred, hell we were probably at our most mentally healthy thanks to the efforts of Koro-sensei. We were right here, functioning, grieving and trying to look ahead. But no one seemed to care. They wanted a story, a sensational report. They wanted an outlet for their twisted sense of justice, a summary of information that soothed their outrage. A version of reality that suited their goals. It didn't matter that they ignored our feelings and trampled on what we were.

 _They're no different from the main campus students._

Taking deep breaths, I sat myself down on the bed. Nothing would change the fact that I had been taught by the best teacher to exist. Nothing would be able to change the fact that the past year had been the best in my life. No matter how dirty the report, nothing would take away the hope that Koro-sensei had given. It was something no one could ever forget.

I knew all of that. So why then was I still feeling so crushed?

The days passed with many thoughts swirling in my head. However, tonight, I rose from my bed with a new fire in my chest. A week had passed, and it was time to return to settle my mind. If I couldn't get any answers at home, then perhaps a change of place would help.

The world wanted to remember Koro-sensei as a destructive monster, wanted our assassination classroom as a forgotten nightmare. They labelled us as helpless children, too weak to handle the reality we were in.

I won't allow that.

If the world was going to force that notion on us, I simply had to kill it.

Donning my super-PE clothes, hood up and secured in place, I left a note on my desk before slinking out the front door. Mom will probably never need to read it being a heavy sleeper and all, but it didn't hurt to at least be accountable.

* * *

The night air was cool against my skin as I sailed through the treetops. True to Karasuma-sensei's words, the police guards were lax. Their security was almost pitiful compared to that fateful night, with patrolling pairs cutting through my intended point of entry only every 10 minutes. But I still had to be careful as the base of the mountain was flanked by a lightly bending road. I could well be within the line of sight of the next patrol if I took too long.

3 minutes I'd say, would be the maximum amount of time allowed for me to be out in the open on the street. Once the first patrol rounded the bend, I darted towards the entry point.

A quick climb up a convenient wall of rock, a well-placed jump to the lowest hanging branch over the fence and a couple of forceful swings later, I was off the road and out of sight in less than a minute.

 _Well of course they would be lax, they're defending against journalists. No normal person could get past them._

It didn't take me long to reach the darkened classroom. What sparse patrols that were placed up the mountain remained near the main path. It was easy to stay undetected when I was moving through the treetops from the other side of the mountain. Peering through the closed windows, I quickly scanned the interior.

Everything was as we left it. Our chairs and desks were out of place, having left the place in a hurry to get changed for our graduation ceremony. The floor was strewn with stray ribbons, left behind by those of us who unrolled our diplomas early. The box of chalk was left open, and day manager's name was still written on the board. For a moment, I could almost believe that there would be class here the next day.

But as I scanned the classroom further, I felt my heart drop. The corner where our beloved Ritsu's box usually sat, was empty. Only a ring of dust remained to mark her presence.

 _They took her away… did they shut her down?_ My heart sank even further as I remembered the purpose of the police being here. _What else did they take away?_

I wrenched the windows open and jumped in, making a beeline for my desk. I reached under it. Nothing. The rubber knife and pistol I hid underneath it was gone. I searched Karma's desk for his spare stash. Nothing. Sugino's. Nothing. I began a frantic search. All our desks had been emptied.

 _No no no, they can't take them away._

The faculty room was empty, even of the paperwork that usually filled it to the brim. The shed that held our weapon stash was cleared. Every corner I checked, there was no sign of any guns or ammo having been placed there. Even the dummies and target boards we placed outside for our makeshift shooting range were gone. In the confines of our little classroom, any trace of us being assassins had been removed.

Slumping over my desk, I let out a strangled sigh as my thoughts returned in full force. One question rose after another, and the distinct sense of hopelessness crept in as I raked my fingers through my hair. Why did the world want so badly to make us forget? My head felt heavy, and my temples ached from the myriad of emotions coursing through me. It was frustrating, it was hopeless, and it was insulting. But most of all, it was downright unfair and cruel.

I had just broken free of my mother's round 2. I had finally found a path for myself. I finally had an identity I could say I truly owned. So why did this world want so desperately to sweep it all aside?

 _I can't let them take it all away._

Gingerly, I took out my phone. 1:05 am. Taking a deep breath, I brought the screen close to my face. _Please._

"Ritsu? You there?" I whispered, gripping my phone tightly in mock prayer. _Please._

Silence. My hands began to shake.

 _Please…_

A buzz later, and my screen lit up with the portrait of a cheery purple-haired girl.

"You called Nagisa? … Hey are you alright?"

For the second time in a week, my tears were flowing down my cheeks unbidden.

* * *

She had matched her outfit to mine, showing her in the girl-version of our super PE clothes, while her background showed her in a grassy field in the middle of the night. It was a sweet gesture, to mirror the situation I was in.

"They took you away Ritsu. Your box." I murmured.

"Yeah… they actually brought me to the lab to deactivate me." My eyes widened in alarm. Why?! How long did she have left then?

"Oh, but I obviously couldn't let them! I still have so much to learn!" Her eyes widened in earnest, as she shot me a look of smug determination.

"… So I escaped!" I did a double-take.

"Uh… wait so where are you?" It was a dumb question seeing how she was currently in my phone, but in my defence I couldn't possibly understand advanced technology very well.

With a mischievous glint in her eyes, she began a detailed explanation of her great escape. How she had calculated the distinct possibility of getting shutdown shortly after backing up Koro-sensei's upgrades, and how she had prepared for it over the course of the year. As she stuck by us, assisting us with our assassinations and lessons over the year, she had secretly been uploading portions of her code to various net servers around the world. Granted, I lost her when she started going into the technical details, but after several rounds of explanation I got the gist of it.

"But can you still manage multiple things at once then?"

"Sure I can! I may not be connected to the supercomputer in the lab anymore, but the multiple networked parts of me can still handle a fight!" She declared valiantly, raising her fists in a fighting stance.

Despite the tears still staining my cheeks and the heaviness of my head, I laughed. I laughed till my sides hurt, and it left me dizzy from a lack of air.

That's right. The world was a cruel and overwhelming opponent we had to fight. But we didn't need to always face it head on. We simply had to engage in hit-and-run tactics and bide our time. Once our target had an opening, we assassins could move in, and strike a killing blow. We would have our chance to right it eventually. I gave the girl in the phone a wide smile.

"Thank you Ritsu."

Ritsu was an AI, a computer in every sense of the word. To everyone in the world, she was merely a compiled code. They would never give her a second thought outside of her being a very advanced set of 1's and 0's. And yet, here she was, giving one of the most human things to me. Comfort.

We were already striking the world our hit-and-run tactics. In small, but sure ways. We would get our chance.

"Nagisa?" A different voice echoed from the halls. Whirling around, my eyes locked with a pair of light brown ones.

"Kayano? Why are you here?" I blurted. Ritsu's defiant stance melted into a cheeky one.

"Ah sorry Nagisa, but I was the one who sent her a message. Enjoy!" And with a final wink, she disappeared from my screen.

I hadn't realised it then, but Ritsu's cheekiness would be one of the many legacies our Koro-sensei would leave behind.

* * *

 **And that's it for this chapter. Let me know what you think! Thegoh**


	3. Chapter 3

The cool night wind brushed against my skin, rustling the grass as they blew by. Above us, the moon hung high in the air, bright as ever. The tips of the crescent had begun to crumble and fill the gaping hole, falling to the moon's own gravitational pull. According to the experts, it would soon restore itself into another sphere and stabilise into its new orbital distance.

We were seated at the edge of the field, atop the trees that we had lounged under for many a lunch break. At first they had looked a bit too young, their branches looking just barely thick enough to hold our weight. We had refrained from climbing them, after they released an ominous crack during one ill-fated attempt. But now, the sturdy arms held us up steadily, without even a creak in protest.

Nagisa had his gaze fixed on the moon, silently studying its restructuring as he stood leaning against the trunk, arms crossed. His brilliant blue hair tied up in his signature pigtails, waved gently in the breeze; a bright contrast to the navy sky. I sat on a neighbouring branch, not quite daring to stand on the branches as he did. A backdrop of blues and darkened green, the rushing of wind in the area and a lone protagonist at the center of the picture; the whole scene before my eyes could give Hollywood-level pictures a run for their money. I remained silent, letting the moment sink in. A tranquil moment was a treasure, compared to the chaos that wrapped us all in the recent week.

We needed to grieve, but the media circled us like hungry vultures. None of us dared to even stick our heads out the windows. While I was used to dealing with paparazzi during my active periods, this was a whole new level. Thus, I kept myself within my apartment and cut-off contact with the outside world, lying in bed and reflecting on the year.

I had nearly jumped out of my bed upon noting that the incoming message was from Ritsu. We never sent mails through her, unless it was something very important and needed to be kept within tightly controlled channels. The contents of the message chilled me even more.

"Nagisa's at school. He needs you."

It was the quickest I had ever left my home.

The night was quiet as I weaved through the streets. It would have been much faster to free-run across the roofs, but I needed to conserve my stamina just in case. Plus, with the near silence hanging over the neighbourhood, jumping and landing on roof tiles was sure to get me detected as I neared the mountain. I fished out the earpieces that I had tucked under my hood, and pushed them into my ears.

"Ritsu, what's going on? Is Nagisa in danger? Have you alerted the others?" I whispered as I rounded a corner. Good. The mountain was already in view. Living near the school always had an advantage.

"He's not in any danger, but I think he needs someone with him." Ritsu replied.

Well. That's still not any better.

Whatever questions I had when rushing my way here were silenced by whatever I had heard in the classroom. The shaky gasps, the hushed pleas for our digital friend, the unbridled sobs that were let loose.

The poor boy was lost.

His target had disappeared before him, dissolving into a thousand particles of light by his hand. The one who had uplifted him – all of us really – and gave him hope when the system couldn't, had died right before his eyes. The worst part of it all was that he didn't actually need to die.

We could have saved him, but the world wouldn't have it.

I was snapped out of my reverie by a ragged sigh. Nagisa lowered himself to sit on the branch; his fingers bunched into a tight, trembling fist.

"Kayano, is it wrong to want to hold on to this? To hate that it's gone?" His voice came out as a hoarse whisper. I felt a sharp pang in my chest as his plea reached my ears; his heart sounded so close to shattering. I maintained a sombre silence as his words resonated in my head.

It was a simple desire, to wish that the good things we experience could last longer. The cruel part was that the desire only hits us after the experience is lost to us, and in the world we lived in outside the classroom that loss was permanent. We all knew the moment we woke up the morning after that incident, that there would be nowhere else that could ever come close to the experience of our classroom in the mountain.

The even more cruel part was that the circumstances seemed to amplify the sense of loss with society now on a witch hunt to erase everything related to it.

Nonetheless, we could not afford to cave in now. If any of us want the world to acknowledge our experience the way we knew it to be, we can't give in to their impressions of us. The duality would be jarring to deal with, to live with a version of someone or something that was only known to you in your head. But it has to be done.

"Well, it's not wrong to want to. But how you do it matters." My reply was crisp, and it snapped him out of his thoughts. His gaze slid to mine, and I saw that his eyes were still raw from his outburst in the classroom. Yet, despite his furrowed brows and clenched fists, I sensed no animosity from his scowl. It was a tired, but curious gaze. I began to feel acutely aware that this was one of the few times he was truly looking at me, rather than a Mach speed target in the distance.

It was a bit thrilling, to be honest.

"Have I ever told you about my sister? She was the world to me. When my parents left, she was the only one who cared for me." I sighed, turning my eyes toward the field.

"She was clumsy and had poor taste in clothes, but you'll be hard pressed to find another person as earnest and encouraging as her." Nagisa gave a silent nod. I continued scanning the distant trees as I recalled her.

"Even during her worst moments with that bastard Yanagisawa, she never lost her smile. She never caved in to despair, even when everyone left her to babysit a killer. Heck, she outright converted that die-hard assassin into a big softie." I could feel my throat drying as I remembered her pained, sheepish smiles whenever I talked about her situation. How she remained firm in her decisions for the good of us both. How she had still remained gentle in tone and chirpy in outlook. Even how she supported every movie I starred in by buying a ticket, even when she couldn't personally show up sometimes. A lump began to rise in my throat, and my voice slowly began to choke up.

"But when she disappeared, what did I do? I took the tentacles upon myself, I burned in hatred. I reacted to her death by becoming a rampaging monster, no different from the thing that killed her." A bitter smile crossed my lips as I recalled the sensation of injecting myself and the daily ordeal of bearing with the pain. I noted his lips pursing as I mentioned my sister's death.

"I held on to my impressions and my vengeance for a good year. And as I result, I wasted a lot of time when I could have immersed myself in life more, enjoyed our class times more and actually gotten to know everyone better…" My voice began to trail off into a whisper and I heard Nagisa exhale shakily. The breeze had stopped, and the air felt heavier all of a sudden as we both sat in silence. Slowly, I felt a warm hand rest on my shoulder, and Nagisa gave it a light squeeze. I leaned into the touch slightly, grateful for a show of sympathy and support. Or maybe it was that he needed to hold on to something, after reflecting on what I was trying to say. I couldn't tell.

I returned the favour by placing my own hand over his. We continued our silence, giving the occasional squeeze to assure the other that we were still there. The clouds continued in their lazy crawl over the sky, and the sound of bull frogs could be heard in the fields below. I closed my eyes, and allowed the sounds of nature to wash over me. After what felt like hours, I drew the strength to continue.

"I'm sure that my sister would have preferred that I remembered her by living my life better." Letting out a final sigh, I shifted my eyes from the trees and gave Nagisa a pointed stare. I had to tell him, I had to do something to give him the hope he pleaded for. After all, I was supposed to be comforting him. Inhaling deeply, I rose and stood on the branch.

"So believe me, this should not be the way to remember our teacher and our class. Because what we do in remembrance of it shapes us, and can change the way the world sees it." My voice was firm, and I felt a renewed sense of power stemming from my words. No one could take away what we had, and as long as we kept our promises and lessons from Koro-sensei, his legacy would eventually become clear. An assassin must be patient after all.

At the back of my mind, I was also reeling at how cheesy I must sound. Part of me wondered if I was recycling this from the lines I had from that action movie I starred in once.

A light, raspy chuckle confirmed my fears.

"Hey! I meant what I said!" I felt blood rushing to my cheeks and my face heat up as I protested with a scandalised look.

"I know, I know! It's just that it for a moment it felt like we're in a movie." I noted the fresh tears peeking out from his eyes, but the scowl was gone, and the heavy mood lifted with every laugh that escaped his lips. Compared to his anguished cries, his nervous chuckles were music to my ears. I felt a deep sigh leave my lungs, and my shoulders loosened slightly. Sitting back down, I let him ride out his amusement and quietly enjoyed his mirth. His chuckles died down quickly as he felt the branch shift with my movements.

"Thank you, Kayano." And I was greeted with his signature gentle smile which made my heart twinge.

"No really, thank you. I didn't mean to laugh… B-but, I truly believe you're right. Thank you for helping me through this. I think I can sleep better tonight." His tone was gentle, albeit a little nervous. Rising to stand on the branch again, he extended his hand towards me.

"Come on, I'll walk you home."

* * *

It didn't take us long to reach my home, given that the path down the mountain was easier to move through. Now that the situation had calmed down, it became a thrilling game to sail between the trees and through the streets under the cover of darkness, with the police none the wiser.

And despite being on par with me in terms of free-running, Nagisa was such a gentleman through it all, taking point and refusing to break away until we had reached my very doorstep.

"Sorry for dragging you out there so late into the night." He rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.

"Hey no apologizing. It's what friends do. Besides, technically you aren't the one who called me." We glanced at our phones briefly and snickered. Ritsu only heard us when we called her name, so our privacy was maintained.

"Y'know Nagisa, you're not alone. I – ah, we are all here for you if you need someone to talk to."

I was given another sheepish smile in return, and I felt my heart flutter in response. Damn his handsome smile.

"I'll remember that next time. And ah… you'll be the first to know."

Whatever it was that gave me the courage, whatever it was that spurred me to act, I had no idea. Perhaps it was because I was overwhelmed by the mix of emotions from the entire night, or maybe it was due to me being utterly exhausted from free-running so late into the night. Upon hearing the words leave his mouth, my body simply moved by itself by stepping forward and enveloping him in a hug. Not a moment later, I released him.

"Keep that promise alright?" And with a final wink and a grin, I stepped into my home and collapsed on the floor, burying my face into my palms.

 _Why, why, why did I do that?_

I didn't have the presence of mind to note that he had remained frozen outside for a while, and that I only heard his footsteps several minutes after I shut the door.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4 is up!**

* * *

It was several more weeks of solitude before I encountered Nagisa again. And by "encounter", I mean needed for help.

In hindsight, I technically should have seen it coming.

I had woken to the sound of my alarm blaring loudly in my ears. I shut it off in irritation before burying my face back into my pillow. Though I had made it a point to sleep earlier the previous night, somehow it just did not work out. My limbs felt like lead, my eyelids refused to open, and the very thought of leaving the bed made my heart sink. I snuggled deeper into my blankets, fully prepared to return to another session of snoozing.

Yet, my traitorous stomach would have none of it. Reluctantly, I slid out of my blankets and stretched myself, hearing my shoulders pop loudly amid the silence of the apartment. Continuing my morning stretches, I reached down for my toes and winced. My muscles felt sore and tight, and they strained uncharacteristically as I leaned down. Frowning, I stood up and inspected myself in the mirror. My skin looked fine, if only slightly paler than usual and there seemed to be no bags under my eyes. Overall, I looked fine.

So why was my body feeling so wrecked as if I had just run Karasuma-sensei's obstacle course of death? I shuddered at the mere memory. That particular training phase was so gruelling that it had me wishing I could just unleash my tentacles to complete it.

A buzz took me away from my thoughts. I checked my phone.

2 messages, one from Nakamura, and one from Nagisa. _Right. It's my turn today._ Shaking myself awake, I headed straight for the showers, hoping that the hot water would soothe my aching muscles.

Over the past week, the class had set up a "courier system" of sorts, where we grouped ourselves according to the districts we lived in and took turns running errands for members of our group. Rather than leaving our homes en masse, it meant that each person left the house once a week at most, thus maintaining our privacy while still being able to run our necessary errands. At least, that was how we reasoned it with Karasuma-sensei.

In truth, some of us were just getting bored to tears staying cooped up indoors and needed an excuse to leave. Since some of the others needed help getting things done, it seemed like the perfect way to justify breaking out of our self-imposed lockdown. Karasuma-sensei, however, saw right through our reasons and rejected our proposal outright. It took Bitch-sensei's support to change his mind, at the cost of promising to include her in the courier delivery list.

* * *

"Come on Karasuma, they've been cooped up long enough." She cooed in his ear, arms draped over his shoulders as she pressed herself generously into his back. He tensed slightly but remained where he was, bringing a smile to her lips.

"We are still working on maintaining the gag order. There is no telling who or what they may run into if they leave the house." He replied gruffly, folding his arms as his brows furrowed. Irina felt her mirth falter as he continued.

"I will not let them be exposed to those vultures again."

Irina gave Karasuma a soft gaze. She too wanted to ensure these children could be left in peace. They had endured enough of the dark side of this society and witnessed the psychosis it could breed in others. Any more, and they would run the risk of becoming swallowed up by it, never to have a decent childhood again.

"But..." Irina slid in front of him, arms never leaving the crook of his neck. Karasuma tracked her movements silently, watching her tiptoe around with a cat-like grace that came with years of practice. She was dressed in a loose red spaghetti-strapped nightgown that reached her knees, the most modest one she was willing to tolerate under his insistence. He vaguely recalled the argument they had regarding her dress sense at home. Sure, they intended to marry soon, but he would tolerate none of her shenanigans until it was proper to do so. He was brought out of his thoughts when she looked him directly in the eyes.

"We cannot shield them forever. At some point, life has to resume for them." Her gaze sharpened, devoid of their usual sultry shade. Karasuma held her gaze, questioning.

"Think about it. A few weeks more and it's a new school for them. Our influence will be even more limited once they integrate into their new phase of life. They need to learn how to cope and live normally with what happened, and house arrest will not help them do that." She answered softly.

"It's why we let them make the decision to return to schooling to begin with isn't it? They aren't kids anymore." Her last line made her heart ache.

Much as she wanted, she could no longer call this bunch children. They had made more adult decisions and faced more tests of resilience in the past year than most people do in their lifetimes.

Karasuma closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose, shoulders still stiff. Irina kept her arms around him, waiting. After what seemed like hours, let out a massive sigh and wordlessly typed his reply into his phone. It was only after he hit 'send' did he finally let his shoulders sag.

"You're right." He whispered. Irina drew him forward into a full hug, and for once he offered no resistance.

* * *

On our end, we received a long and sternly worded message to keep ourselves out of trouble, along with a list of rules and a firm reminder that if anything happened it was to be reported and the courier idea would end. It was followed by a message from Bitch-sensei, telling us to stay safe but also issuing us a challenge. That if we wanted our way, we needed to show the fruits of our training.

 _After all, a key skill of an assassin is to be able to hide in plain sight._

And thus began our 'courier duties'.

If I were to be honest, I was glad to have a chance to step outside. Living alone while under lockdown was boring at best, and downright cold and lonely at worst. The whole fiasco had left me feeling very isolated, and there were already multiple nights where the emptiness of my own home had left me wide awake with a metaphorical hole in my chest. More than anything, I just wanted to be able to talk to someone face to face. Anyone of my classmates would be good, if only to ease the void that had become more prominent over the past few weeks.

Memories and regrets become harder to ignore when the only thing you have to face is the voice in your head.

Stepping out of the shower, I put on an old T-shirt and shorts and inspected myself once more. The aches had diminished somewhat, and colour had returned to my face. Since I only had to make two stops today, I figured I would just go ahead and get my deliveries over and done with. Rest could come later.

Less than 40 minutes later, I was beginning to regret my decision to leave the house. The aches had returned in full force, and my steps grew increasingly sluggish as I walked. More than anything, I just wanted to curl up on the ground and not move. The plastic bag of food I was delivering felt heavier and heavier by the minute, and I was beginning to pant from the ordeal. Sweat poured down my neck, though it was hardly the warmest time of the day. Thankfully, there didn't seem to be any reporters within sight. It would be a major pain to rebuff them while being incapacitated like this.

I pushed myself ahead. _Just one more stop and I can go home_.

The route I had today was a really simple one. Help Nakamura settle some bills for an online purchase at the convenience store, purchase some food from said store and deliver them to Nagisa. It was easy. I could have easily run back and forth and made it home in half an hour.

But right now, it would take nothing less than the God of Death himself to make me even consider picking up the pace.

Finally, after what felt like forever, I stood at the front door of the Shiota household. With the pain from the aches growing increasingly intense, I pushed the doorbell button, silently begging for the thing to be over and done with. I was so fixated on the pain and feeling my legs tremble, that I barely heard the door open.

"Yes, who – Whoa are you alright?!"

It was the last thing I heard before I blacked out.

* * *

"Kayano, hey Kayano!"

I awoke to the feeling of being laid on a soft surface. Immediately, my eyes were locked with a pair of frantic blue ones.

"Oh thank God." Relief flooded his expression, and I felt my face flush automatically. Dazed, I was vaguely aware that my mouth was agape as I gave Nagisa a blank stare. He rambled on, oblivious to my shock.

"Are you alright? You just collapsed on me when I opened the door. You don't seem to have a fever, but if you weren't well you should have just told us." His gaze was still fixed on me, and he had an open palm resting gently on my forehead. My heart leapt from the close contact, and I let out a sputtered yelp as I finally registered what happened.

I was inside his house, on his sofa with one of his arms around my back as he held me. He had positioned himself next to me with one knee resting on the cushion, and seemed like he was in the middle of lowering me to recline on the sofa. The bag of food I brought had been hastily discarded, and its contents had spilled onto the floor at the foot of the sofa.

Taking stock of my body, I tried to determine what exactly had caused this. My neck felt stiff, and my shoulder muscles had tensed up from my rude awakening. A cursory twitch of my arms determined that they were still weakened, and the pain that overtook me moments before had dulled. It was when I turned my attention to the lower half of my torso that I froze, and I felt my blush intensify as my suspicion formed.

"Um… Could I use your bathroom?" I muttered.

His eyes widened again and he removed his arm. "Ah! S-sure. It's next to the front door." As soon as he released me, I shot straight for the bathroom. It did not take long before I was burying my face in my hands as I confirmed my suspicions.

"I should have known…" I groaned. My eyes darted around frantically as I hunted for what I desperately needed. _Of all the times for this to happen… how could I have forgotten about this?_

A soft knock emanated from the door. "Um, Kayano, are you okay in there?" Nagisa asked hesitantly, his voice laden with worry. I picked up the pace.

 _Not now, not yet!_

"I-I'm fine. Just… uh." Words failed me as I juggled between my hurried search, the need to produce a suitable reason and my own rising embarrassment. I tried the mirror-cabinet, nothing. Under the sink, nothing. My heart began to race. The returning wave of pain did not help at all.

"Please Kayano, let me help. I can call a doctor right now." Nagisa's voice was growing increasingly anxious, and it merely spurred my own anxiety. _Damn his considerate nature!_

"I'm not sick, I'm uh…" I mentally smacked myself in the head. _Real smooth!_

Silence followed, and I slowly came to the morbid realisation that what I needed was not present. My mind switched gears, racing to think of alternatives. And just as my sense of dread reached its crest, Nagisa spoke again.

"Uh. Is it… girl stuff?"

Whatever dignity I had left promptly imploded and left the building.

* * *

"Here, this should help you feel better." Nagisa placed a cup of what I assumed was ginger tea before me.

Well, I assumed that it was ginger tea, given how it smelled and having heard the distinct thud of a mug being put on a table. I couldn't really confirm it yet as I had been keeping my own face buried in my hands in sheer mortification for the past 10 minutes.

I not only experienced the most humiliating accident a female could ever have in front of a guy, but now I was being given assistance by said male for a condition that most men could barely even talk about. The fact that I was now wearing his shorts while my own soiled ones lay folded in a bag just cemented the reality of the situation. Nonetheless, my ingrained politeness demanded that I thank him properly. Slowly but surely, against all instinct, I raised my head to meet his gaze.

"T-t-thank you for the tea." My face and ears felt hot, and I was sure that I was making records with the amount of embarrassment I was showing. Nagisa cracked a sheepish smile in return as he sat next to me on the sofa. We fell into a comfortable silence as I sipped the tea, and I secretly thanked the gods that the blush that had been stuck to my face was beginning to recede. As I calmed down, I decided to look around the room.

It was a simple and humble house, kept neat and clean. No photos of any sort could be seen, and the whole feel of the place was very frugal and minimalistic. Then again, given what I had heard of Nagisa's mother by his own account, it was to be expected. I sighed internally. Under any other circumstance, I would have been very happy to visit his home and chat with him.

"If you don't mind me asking… does this happen to you every time it comes?" Nagisa inquired gently. Sensing his worried undertones, I decided to be more forthcoming.

After all, now that the cat was out of the bag it made little sense to continue being evasive.

"Um well… it only became like this after the tentacles got removed." Predictably, his expression morphed into one of concern.

Back then, I knew full well that the presence of the tentacles would alter my physiology greatly, even to the point of potentially rendering me sterile. The pain alone placed my body under immense stress and as such, my cycles stopped completely for the entire school year. It didn't bother me very much back then; it seemed a worthy sacrifice to enable myself to reach my target. Nothing else really mattered. But as I slowly uncovered the truth behind Koro-sensei and the tentacles in general, I began to doubt my resolve. Suddenly, the sacrifice did not seem nearly as worth it as in the beginning. Thus, it was a pleasant surprise when my cycle managed to resume after the tentacles were removed. What I did not expect, was for it to become totally unpredictable and irregular, and for my body to literally get wracked with pain and fatigue on some occasions. Overall, it made accidents like today easy to occur.

Nagisa winced as he heard it all.

"Is there any medicine? Or a treatment of some sort?"

"I don't intend to let anyone examine me though. It would raise all kinds of questions." Nagisa looked ready to protest, but eventually could only glumly nod in agreement. Feeling a pang of guilt for making the topic so sombre, I quickly added.

"Oh but I'm sure I will be alright. My body just needs time."

 _Right?_

Honestly, I still felt hesitant to believe that it meant my body would really return to normal. How could it, after being forcefully transformed, even just partially, by those monstrous cells?

Putting the mug down, I searched for a different topic. We all have had our share of serious and downer topics for the past month. Eventually, my eyes settled on the discarded bag and its strewn contents. Luckily it was all packaged foodstuffs, including microwaveable bentos and cup ramen, thus preventing any sort of mess.

"Why did you order these anyway? Aren't you able to cook?"

Nagisa stiffened slightly and let out a sheepish chuckle.

"Well, my mother is out of town this week and she will never let me eat these… so yeah." He admitted shyly, hand reaching to rub his neck awkwardly. I resisted the urge to giggle. His eyes had shifted away, like he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. A rebellious streak laced with a degree of innocence.

It was actually quite adorable.

"Oh, for work I guess? To where?" I chirped.

"Ah, she's on vacation actually… with my dad."

Crap. Another sore topic.

It was no secret amongst the class that Nagisa had a complicated family background. Anything regarding his parents and life at home never surfaced in conversation, and any direct questions by anyone was evaded with a seasoned level of elegance. Visiting his home after school was never an option, and any attempts to ask him to join weekend outings were often met with polite refusal. At one point, some of us made it a personal – albeit misguided mission to try and figure him out.

But as we found to our dismay, reading him was tough. He kept his responses regarding such topics so restrained and calm, that it was nearly impossible to get a candid answer. The assassin training only made the mask stronger, and it was only within the final months that it actually cracked.

The discussion did not even involve him. Yet somehow, a stray comment by Muramatsu complaining loudly from the other end of the room about a heated argument he had with his father over ramen had sent Nagisa storming out of the classroom during lunch. Well, he actually just walked outside, but it had been so jarring as he had just barely sat down. The momentary darkening of his expression, and subtle shift of his gaze towards Muramatsu told it all.

He had spent that entire lunch period seated under the trees. I followed him quietly, wordlessly taking a seat across him.

It was then he confided that his mother had tried to burn down the school just the night before. And that he really just wished his father could come back.

Suddenly, I felt a gentle touch to my neck. I snapped back to reality.

"Hey, don't worry about it." _How did he…?_

"It's a good thing." His hand retreated, and he leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. "They said they're trying to patch things up, give it a second chance." He said wistfully, hands clasping unconsciously in mock prayer. Almost mechanically, he pulled his lips into a soft smile as he regarded me with what I assumed to be a reassuring look.

I do not know if I truly understood how I did it, or if I could even put it into words. But then and there, for the briefest of moments, I sensed a pulse of fear from him.

"It will be alright!" I blurted out before I could stop myself. He jumped slightly at my outburst, eyes widening with surprise. "Just believe in them, and take their word for it. I'm sure everything will be alright, and everything will work out." I rambled awkwardly, suddenly realising that in my zeal I had risen to my feet and balled my hands into fists, very much like those characters I saw in anime.

Great, now I had transitioned from sounding cheesy to acting cheesy.

But the genuine grin of relief that broke on his face flooded my insides with warmth, and my own awkwardness was quickly forgotten.

* * *

I remained in Nagisa's home for hours, conversing about everything that came across the mind. He showed me great hospitality too, even cooking lunch and dinner. By the time I stood before the door of my house, the sun had already set. Nagisa, still a gentleman to the core, had insisted on walking me home, despite my constant assurance that the pain had subsided to manageable levels.

"Thanks for everything today. I really owe you one." I said shyly. I received a gentle smile in return.

"No worries, I'm always glad to help you out." He let out a light chuckle as he replied, and again I felt the blush returning.

"Although," He continued, "I'll be honest, I almost didn't recognise you when I opened the door."

Ah.

Over the past few weeks, I had stopped using the green dye that I usually applied to my hair. As such it was able to steadily wash out, and my locks had returned to their natural dark brown. Now that I thought about it more, it was probably why no reporters were seen as well. I looked very different, especially when I kept my hair down.

Feeling self-conscious, I asked. "Is it bad?"

"N-no! It looks great! Better actual- ah n-not that it was bad before-" Now it was his turn to blush, and I could not help but let out a laugh at seeing him so flustered. Placing my hand on his shoulder, I gave him a reassuring pat.

"Thank you."

He grasped my hand in return, and levelled an intense gaze that nearly floored me.

"Kayano, believe me. You look good." A breeze picked up, and his hair billowed gently against the evening light. The grass rustled in the background, and my mind was transported back to that fateful night on the mountain when we sat among the trees. My heart pounded loudly, and I held his gaze, too surprised to really look anywhere else.

Time seemed to slow, and likened to a spell, my awareness was both heightened and dulled. Overloaded by the intensity of his eyes and touch of his hand, and numbed to the fact that we were just two teens standing outside of a door.

Curse my hormones really. And curse my understanding of movie clichés.

"Let me know if you still need help tomorrow. I'll come over and cook alright?" And without a chance for me to protest, he stepped away, breaking the spell.

As I went to sleep that night, I made 2 mental notes.

That I managed to successfully hide in plain sight, and that there was no way I'm letting him cook.

* * *

 **Apologies for how long this took! Once again, let me know what you think! Many thanks!**

 **Thegoh**


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